


Sick Days

by bunnybunz



Category: Creepypasta - Fandom
Genre: Ben is here tho, Jeff doesnt even show up honestly, Sickfic, and hes pretty good stuff, hes also sick, reposted from deviantART, sucks to be him, you play nurse whoopee
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-21
Updated: 2016-07-21
Packaged: 2018-07-25 22:45:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7550173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bunnybunz/pseuds/bunnybunz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a creepypasta manages to crawl into your home through a computer, people usually scream and call the police.<br/>You? <br/>Well, it's just another normal day for you.<br/>Except this idiot somehow got sick this time, ugh. More work for you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sick Days

You sat in your room with the expression of utter boredom painted on your features, your hand absentmindedly tracing patterns on the table next to your open laptop.   
You grunted as your computer went into hibernation mode again and tapped the spacebar to reawaken the screen.  
Your bedroom window was wide open, allowing the evening breeze to float into your adobe and gently rustle the papers on your table. Fading streaks of sunlight peeked through your fluttering curtains, caressing your body with soft warmth.  
  
Despite the serene atmosphere that had settled into your semi-messy room, your features were soon twisted into a grimace. The fingers that had been trailing along the table began drumming a steady rhythm, growing quicker and more impatient by the second.  
You glanced at the clock for what seemed like the hundredth time that day, and read the blaring red numbers  
  
6:23 PM.  
  
You scowled, annoyed.  
"Ugh, where is that little rascal?" You muttered, tapping your keyboard again and watching irefully as your homescreen popped up again.  
  
Ben usually arrived before sundown, but the sun was already halfway down the horizon.   
Ben probably would've taunted you for being so worked up over his absence, and you, being a _little_ short tempered, would probably fall for his teasing and would have exploded into a mess of jumbled profanities.  
  
Though many would describe your actions now as "eager," you recalled how petrified you were when Ben first popped out of the fossilized desktop your dad insisted they brought when your family moved.  
That day, your mother and father had been visiting a sick relative in the hospital, and couldn't come home for the night. You, feeling free and a little daring, decided to stay up the entire night watching horror flicks in your livingroom. Although you felt the terror of eight marathoned horror movies shake you to your core, you persisted, jumping at every little noise from the movie and from your creaky home.  
That's why, when you witnessed the forgotten computer in the corner of the livingroom fizz and flicker on and off, you froze in unfathomable fear, merely staring as a deathly pale hand clawed it's way out of a jumble of binary code and pixels. By the time a head of tousled white hair and pitch black eyes with crimson irises emerged from the screen, you were already halfway out the door, knowing better than to trap yourself in your own bedroom.  
You would've spent the night at a neighbor's house, but your closest neighbor must have been at least a mile away- being that your family decided to move into the suburbs. Unfortunately for you, who was secluded in the pitch black of the night with _god-knows-what_ in your house, it was pouring outside.  
  
In your mad scramble for salvation, you had not grabbed the keys to your house.  
  
You had originally settled for the plan to stay in the freezing rain, (it was definitely a safer bet than being in the house) but alas, the hours spent watching scary movies finally took its toll on you, and had made you paranoid to every small rustle and crunch. (In truth, it was just the trees.)  
This terror had driven you to crawl up some old growths of ivy on the side of your home, feeling blessed to find your bedroom window open just a crack- allowing you to pry the rest of the window open.  
  
Halfway through your window, you looked up- only to become blatantly horrified.   
  
There the white-haired boy was, floating in the middle of the room with bleeding eyesockets- as if he had been waiting for your arrival.  
Overcome with panic and surprise, you allowed the wet soles of your feet slip out from under you, sending your drenched body sailing face-first towards the hardwood floor of your bedroom.  
Your nose took the brunt of the fall, and erupted in a mess of blood upon impact.  
The pain of a shattered nose did little to deter you from the thing in your room. Holding your nose with both hands, you scrambled to press yourself against the wall- as far away from that demon-ghost-thing as possible.  
But when you looked back up, you were shocked to find it trying desperately to hold back laughter, it's eye twitching from the effort. The corner of it's mouth was twitching toward a smirk, and it's eyes were betraying it's stoic expression- it wanted to laugh at you!  
  
You shot to your feet, prepared to duke it out with the hovering monster- only to slip a second time on the rainwater that you had tracked into your room. This time, your head collided hard with the frame of your bed, and you blacked out.  
  
You woke up the next morning with a wrapped head and a bandaged nose. It turns out your parents had returned from their little trip and found you lying in a puddle of your own nosebleed- which sounds as humiliating as it felt- and had patched you up.  
After you told them about what you had seen, your parents merely laughed and gave you an affectionate pat on the head, claiming that the stress of moving and lack of sleep had to do with your "hallucinations."  
  
You would've believed them, if it wasn't for the fact that the boy showed up in your room again.  
You fell asleep while using your laptop and when you awoke, you found the pale-haired boy freeing his foot from your computer screen.   
Though you were sure that the white-haired monster returned to finish you off, you found him simply pointing his finger at your wrapped up face and cackling at you, tears budding in the gaping holes that were his eyes. You felt your face burn with embarrassment, and though you should have called for help, you simply sat there, allowing the strange being to laugh at your misfortune. After what felt like an eternity he retreated back into your computer, still snickering- leaving you bewildered and dazed.  
  
He later introduced himself as Ben Drowned over a cyberchat website named "Cleverbot," and you learned his story, as well as the fact that he could teleport just about anywhere that held an electronic device.  
Later that night, you awoke to a flooded room. With your heart pummeling with fear, you gasped and flailed for breath, desperately searching for a way out. You were less than pleased to find Ben on the screen on your open laptop- which was, for some reason, still working under water. His shoulders shook with muted laughter, doubling over with the hilarity he found in your pitiful predicament. As soon as it started, it was gone. The water that had once filled your room was gone, leaving everything unscathed in it's wake. Once you found mobility in your limbs again, you stormed to your laptop (which still contained the laughing freak) and took out the battery, taking away the laptop's source of life.   
You stormed about your house, rampaging in the middle of the night to turn off or unplug any source of electricity you could- the phones, the computers, televisions- even the dusty desktop.  
  
Despite the complaints of your confused parents, you were at peace. Since you had cut off any source of electricity, (other than the lights) that pesky elf hadn't bothered you- probably because he couldn't.   
However, your happiness was short-lived. Upon returning from school one day, you found that your parents had somehow reconnected everything before going to work- leaving you with two things: electricity, and an angry Ben.  
  
You had no idea how you did it, but you managed to convince Ben not to suck you into the netherworld or kill you-  
  
With minimal damage to the house.   
  
Before you placated him, Ben had flown into a livid tantrum, tossing tables and pictures to-and-fro with some unseen force, only ceasing when you promised that you would keep all electronics plugged in- thus allowing him to drop in any time he liked.  
  
Since then, the white haired boy with red irises visited routinely each day without intentions to scare you, though you were still unnerved by his presence at first. As if he sensed your uneasiness, Ben began to annoy you.   
  
**Ceaselessly.**  
  
Day after day, he knocked over decorative vases, messed up your room, taunted your occasional bad grades, and in all: irked the hell out of you.  
  
Yet here you were, waiting for his arrival like some kind of goddamned puppy.  
  
"What. Ever." You hissed through clenched teeth, standing up from your computer table, "Maybe he got bored of me. He's been visiting me for... God knows how long already...Good riddance."  
Despite your words, you felt a twinge of sadness prick your heart like a fine-tipped needle. Though he was undoubtedly aggravating most of the time, you had liked him company. Just a little.  
  
You sighed, the beams of twilight cast your shadow across the floor. "I should prepare some microwaveable dinner, my parents are working overtime today."  
  
As you sulked slowly towards your bedroom door, a loud crash and the sound of loud static pierced your eardrums, making you leap several feet into the air and scramble for the doorknob, storming downstairs to find the source of the noise.  
  
You were both annoyed and relieved to find Ben crawling out of the screen of the old desktop, though your annoyance went out the window once you spotted his shaking arms on the edge of the screen, as if he couldn't support his own weight.  
You extended a hand out to him, flinching as he finally managed to haul himself out of the mess of codes, landing in a heap on the floor.   
  
"Ben?" You inquired, peering at his crumpled form. "Are you okay...?"  
  
You knelt down next to him, touching his shoulder gently. "Ben?"   
  
At your voice, the creepypasta turned to look at you weakly before sniggering quietly- which worried you a bit. "What are you doing in my house?"  
  
You raised an eyebrow. "Ben, this is _my_ house. Not yours."  
  
Ben, who had a pinkish hue to his pale cheeks, took a look around before the realization dawned upon him. "Oh, right. I'll be going then."  
  
You watched as the usually boisterous entity struggled to get back onto his feet, only to fall down again. This time, however, you caught him. Once his body made contact with your arms, you nearly shrieked. The back of his neck was burning hot, and the rest of his body was strangely warm- just like an overheated computer.   
  
"Ben-" You adjusted your hold on him, (he was a lot heavier than he looked) "Ben, are you sick?"   
  
Ben glared at you weakly. "No."  
  
You sighed, exasperated. His pride was going to be the death of him one day. You placed a gentle palm his forehead, cringing at the impossibly high temperature you felt.   
  
"Ben, you have a high fever. A bad one."  
  
The said person clicked his tongue and turned his face away, looking irritated. "That explains why I felt like shit the whole day."  
  
You couldn't help but snicker as you carried him to the couch, "That also explains why you didn't think of visiting me today."  
  
"Get off your high-fucking-horse, princess." Ben scowled, trying in vain to look threatening. "You should be thankful that I visit you everyday."  
  
You rolled your eyes, placing him softly on the couch. "Yeah, yeah. Thanks for gracing me with your presence everyday, dumbass."  
  
You swore you heard Ben grumble something under his breath, but you were already too far up the stairs to hear.  
  
You returned with several pillows, a thermometer and some pills from the bathroom cabinet, determined to nurse Ben back to health. Though he was an annoying turd most of the time, there were rare moments where he comforted you in times of need- though most of the time, his offers to help just involved murdering someone, which you kindly refused. ("Killing people isn't the solution to everything, you freaking moron!")   
Now, it was _your_ turn to help him.  
  
With an abundance of pillows in your arms, you urged him to sit up for a second (which he did with an anguished groan) and slipped four or five behind him, ensuring his comfort.   
  
You went into the kitchen and returned with a damp cloth and a glass of water to drink with the medicine. To be honest, you weren't quite sure if human medicine worked on creepypasta such as Ben, but it was all you had.   
  
"Ben, come on, you need to take some medicine."  
  
He scoffed at you. "Get your Earth pills away from me. You know just as well as I do that those won't work for me."  
  
You knelt next to him on the floor next to the couch and uncapped the bottle, shaking two pills out of the container and nudging him up. "You're right. I don't know if it'll work, but it's the only thing I have, so just suck it up and take them."  
  
"Get away from me." He hissed.  
  
"Ben..." You said, your tone threatening, "Don't make me unplug everything again."  
  
At this, Ben's hollow eyes narrowed, the red specks of light in them piercing into your skull. "You wouldn't dare."  
  
You gulped, feeling a cold sweat accumulate at his intense gaze. You steeled yourself and glared right back at him. "Try me."  
  
Grudgingly, Ben accepted the pills and sat up. Before you could stop him, he threw the pills in his mouth and began to chew.  
You froze, holding the cup of water in your hand and staring at him with wide eyes. You had made the same mistake of chewing those pills when you were younger, prior to figuring out that you could use water to wash them down. To be frank, those pills could cause more damage than a fever if not taken with water- they were horrendously bitter, and nearly caused you to puke.  
Just as you thought, Ben gradually stopped chewing, turning even paler than he already was- if possible. Though his face showed no emotion, you could almost feel the bloodthirsty aura that washed off of him, obviously not too pleased with the taste.   
You wasted no time in shoving the glass of water in his hands, urging him to drink.   
  
The water was gone before you could even blink, and Ben held the front of your shirt with an intent of death in his eyes.   
"You-" He stuttered, his face tinted red from anger, "You-"  
  
You braced yourself for whatever might come, but surprisingly, the grip on your shirt loosened, and Ben flopped back down unceremoniously, letting the pillows swallow his lean body. "Oh, whatever... Why would humans invent something so horrible to heal a sickness? If anything, that just made me sicker..."  
  
  
You smiled nervously, feeling the slightest bit guilty. "Er, it's my fault... I should have told you about the water sooner..."  
  
Ben scowled faintly. "Damn right you should've."  
  
You whispered a low "sorry" before wringing the wet towel, placing the cool cloth on Ben's head. This pulled a sigh of satisfaction from his lips, his eyes fluttering closed with contentment.  
  
You uncapped the thermometer, clicking the "ON" switch before turning back to Ben.   
"One last thing before you rest, Ben. I need your temperature."   
  
Ben didn't even bother to open his eyes or complain- which surprised you. Without hesitation, he simply opened his mouth. You found yourself smiling endearingly at his actions: it was like handling a stubborn child- all you had to do was get past his hard shell.  
  
Taking Ben's temperature was a little bit of a struggle, since the digital screen glitched and spazzed out once it made contact with him. However, once you had taken his temperature, your eyes nearly bulged out of your head. The little pixels, occasionally glitching, read "105.7° F. "   
  
After discovering this little fact, you urged him to sleep for a bit- feeling a bit panicked. After the third time of telling him to just relax and sleep, Ben snapped at you.   
  
"If you tell me to go to sleep one more time, I'll call Jeff up here and tell him to put _you_ to sleep."  
  
Though you knew this was an empty threat, it still shut you up. You had heard a lot about Jeff the Killer, and though some of your friends were obsessed with him, you weren't too keen on meeting him.  
  
After turning on the fan in hopes to cool Ben down, you settled back next to him on the floor, watching his uneven breathing. After a few moments of staring, Ben's eyes snapped open, feebly glaring at you before it turned into a smirk.   
  
"Sweetheart, I know i'm good looking- but if you're gonna stare, at least do something that can excuse you from it."  
  
You blinked and furrowed your brows, feeling embarrassed but relieved. It sounded like he was feeling a bit better- but was that really a good thing for you?  
  
Silently, you lifted a hand and began combing it through his silvery hair, knocking his hat astray. However, Ben didn't seem to mind. In fact, he completely ignored his hat and turned away from you, as if he were hiding his face.   
Despite his best efforts, you spotted a pinkish tint on his cheeks that extended to his ears- and you were sure it wasn't because of the fever he had.  
  
You watched him with soft eyes and continued your small ministrations, wondering how he had gotten sick in the first place.   
Before long, Ben had fallen asleep to your touch and the low hum of the fan.  
Sighing breathily, you gave the sleeping boy a thoughtful look.  
  
You didn't understand why he had kept the routine of visiting you everyday, but you weren't about to complain. Moving was no easy task, it included making new friends and leaving the old ones behind. Your socializing skills weren't your strongest suit, and although you tried your best, it was difficult to keep a conversation with someone at school- you feared their judgement. Though you knew most of the people at school didn't mean any harm to you, it was still a little scary for you to be cast out into a new environment so suddenly, it made you feel vulnerable.   
And although Ben had scared the pants off of you at first, you slowly began to realize that your arguments and chats with him didn't make you tense or anxious. Perhaps you could even go as far as to say he made you the _slightest_ bit happy.  
  
You continued to play with his hair for a little while before removing your hands, observing him carefully.  
  
It was true that Ben was relatively handsome, though you would rather die than admit that to him. His white hair and pale complexion gave him the look of a hauntingly beautiful angel, though his eyes were dark and devilish, always seeming to hold only the most malicious of intentions.   
While he was awake, his countenance was usually twisted into a smirk or a sneer- which didn't exactly make him more attractive, but definitely did not take away from it, either.  
However, as he was asleep, you couldn't help but notice how strikingly bewitching he looked without the usual grimace. His long, white eyelashes brushed against his cheekbones, colored pale pink with his fever. Though you hadn't noticed it previously, it was almost unnerving how captivating Ben was. With his sleek, graceful features relaxed, you almost wouldn't have been able to guess that he was such a cunning gremlin while he was awake.  
  
You couldn't stop your eyes from wandering to his lips, which were slightly parted with his steady inhales and exhales. Just like the rest of his body, his lips were deathly pale, and slightly chapped- though they still looked inviting.  
  
You blushed and averted your eyes upon realizing how inappropriate your thoughts were. Ben was horribly sick and helpless, yet here you were, daydreaming about... _A kiss..._  
  
You covered your face, feeling humiliation wash over you in waves. Ben would probably laugh himself to death if he knew what you were thinking. The mere thought of being with Ben was impractical within itself, since there was no way monsters like him were even capable of feelings, right...?  
  
Your train of thought was halted when you heard the silverette groan lowly from across you. You peered out from your hands with questioning eyes, wondering if you had woken him up with the intensity of your staring. (Was that even possible, though?)  
He wasn't awake. His eyes were still sealed shut, but his mouth was twitching, as if he were trying to say something.  
  
You leaned in closer, watching attentively. Did he want water? A colder towel? More pillows?  
  
Suddenly, much to your shock, your name erupted from his lips, sounding like a cross between a groan of irritation and a plea. Then, he was silent again.   
  
You felt a warmness in your body emitting from the center of your stomach, and before long, you found yourself smiling at Ben.   
  
He was asleep, so it wouldn't hurt too much, right...?  
  
Slowly, you leaned forward and brushed back some of his soft locks, marveling at how pretty his face was. With such a small distance between you two, you could smell his scent- a distinct smell of static and coconut. Gently, you pressed your lips to his cheek, feeling the warmth of his soft, feverish skin on your own mouth.   
  
As you pulled away, you found a hand on the back of your head, pulling you back in.   
Wide eyes registered as Ben tilted his head, and his lips met yours, watching your bewildered expression with groggy, half-lidded eyes before he closed them, pressing his lips harder against your own.   
His mouth was burning hot, no doubt it was because of the fever, but it made the kiss even harder to resist.   
With flushed cheeks, you allowed your eyes to slip shut as well, returning the gentle pressure lightly. You noted that Ben was being unusually careful as he cupped your face, as if you were made of fragile glass that would shatter at any moment.  
You smiled at this, and brushed the side of his cheek with the back of your hand endearingly.  
  
He pulled away and you opened your mouth to speak, but before you could get a word in, his lips descended upon yours again, his tongue sweeping over your already open lips and tickling the roof of your mouth.  
You squeaked a bit at this, and he pulled back, his hand still on your cheek, opening his eyes to take in your reddened face and light panting.  
  
And then you saw it. It surprised you more than the kiss did- and perhaps more than his first appearance did.  
Ben smiled.  
It was a genuine smile, albeit small, unlike the smirks and half-grins he gave you all the time. This time, his lips curled naturally, softening his scarlet eyes a twinge.   
  
The hues of twilight poured in from the window and washed over both of you, bathing both of you in a beautiful gradient of a fading pink, yellow and orange.  
  
You should have scolded him for kissing you while he was sick, but you couldn't find the heart to ruin the mood.   
  
Instead, you smiled back at him, leaning into the hand that remained on your cheek.  
  
There, in the wake of the lingering sun, you discovered that what once was your greatest fear-  
  
was also your greatest treasure.


End file.
